A World Without Heroes: The Saiyan-Tuffle War
by theallpowerfulpuipui
Summary: In Planet Plant, the universe's history of violence comes to a head. General Grief of the Tuffles thinks nothing of carrying on the war of annihilation against the Saiyans. Nappa will expend any amount of lives to achieve his objectives. King Vegeta will do anything to keep his power. Meanwhile, is Frieza and the decadent Arcosian race the puppet masters of it all?


On Planet Arcose, a tall, slick, shiny, lime green Arcosian with one crescent horn and purple pads on his bio-armor approached Frieza's brother with an extreme sense of urgency. "I demand that the Arcosian council meets at once! The events on Planet Plant require the attention of Lord Frieza!" He hissed with an eerily feminine voice.

The current governor on Planet Arcose was hardly an imposing warrior like Cooler, nor had the omnipotent reputations as Frieza or King Cold. Fridge however had the air of a civil servant. He had light blue skin without bio-armor, and had a height neither tall nor short. He was in no way imposing, from his gestures to his diction, "Only the most pressing matters require the attention of the Arcosian council. If, and I mean if Frieza even lends his ear to the symposium, only matters of safety and self-defense will receive his attention."

The androgynous Arcosian was furious, clenching his fists, "Listen to yourself! What do you think Lord Frieza will do to you if he finds out too late?"

Fridge was predictably undeterred by the Arcosian's alarmism, "We live in a society of laws, and order. The King and the Prince cannot be summoned for simple histrionics. The purpose of your network of spies is to keep us aware, not alarmed Icis."

Icis remained serious, and not disheartened by the lack of the governor's reaction, "Be aware of this: The Tuffles are nearing technological advances capable of destabilizing the Planet Trade. The Tuffle Realm has been expanding throughout their galaxy unchecked. Planet Polska was conquered in only four weeks. Planet Frank, known to have bettered the Tuffles in their first great war only held out for just six weeks. War against the Saiyans is now imminent, once our only natural buffer in that galaxy is eliminated the Tuffles are coming here next!"

Fridge squinted, trying to understand what Icis was trying to say, "How would they come here next? That's preposterous. Everyone knows that there is no lifeform that has ever lived even a fraction as powerful as Frieza. It is common knowledge he is far more powerful than anyone's measurements, it is also rumored that he is not even in his true form."

The Arcosian did not want to debate with Frieza's brother that he felt this was simple state-worship propaganda, though unbeknownst to him everything Fridge told him was one hundred percent true. At this point Icis knew that he could not himself convene the Arcosian council, he left with a simple warning, "The Tuffles know that the strongest warriors are made, not born."

"Giru! Giru! Giru!" Giru, a small white robot with tiny arms and legs and a large lenses for an eye panicked while a girl wrapped in a towel and wearing a shower cap chased him.

"You don't want to sneak up on me now scoundrel! I'll kill you!" The preteen yelled, "Mommy!"

Her mother, whose lab coat was swaying along with her neat dreadlocks from the apparent rush had a scouter like device on, ran from the basement surprisingly to the defense of the robot, "You know better than to antagonize your little brother dumpling."

Her daughter had a darker brown skin than her mother, and was a foot shorter than her mother's immense six plus foot stature, "My only brother is in military Academy, not this Machine Mutant that spies on me when I take a shower!"

"He's not spying on you Stuka, he's only trying to help." Her mother dismissed.

Stuka went face to face with her mother, cocked her head upwards and screamed, "Your Machine Mutant is a pervert! Does he know I'm only eleven?"

Her mother was oblivious to why her daughter was so angry, "And Giru is only two, your point is?"

Stuka's face became red with rage until her father, who was slightly shorter than his wife and had no hair aside from a grizzled beard dressed unassumingly in a Tuffle military undershirt and paint-stained khaki shorts went to defuse the situation, "Kiki, that thing helps us pick up the soap when mommy and I take a shower, and he also talked your mother into allowing you to relax your hair."

Stuka looked at her mother incredulously, who responded humbly and enunciated, "It's true, Giru said you'd lash out if I didn't allow you to make your own decisions."

Giru snuck back up behind Stuka, "Giru! Giru!"

Stuka closed her eyes, held her towel with one hand and threw up her hand with the other, "Forget you Giru, I'm still going to kill you one day."

"Kiki," Her father spoke up as his daughter was walking away to her room, "when you're done getting dressed help me with the electrical schematic for the refrigeration unit."

"Okay Daddy, in fifteen minutes." Stuka yelled out from around the hall.

Her father was proud of himself. As a staff officer for Field Marshal Bock he was used to negotiating difficult situations. His sense of accomplishment did not last long however. His wife chided, "I'm upset you referred to your youngest son as a 'thing!' You cannot allow Kiki to have her way over her little brother Grief, if she continues to act this fresh she could be sterilized by the racial hygiene division—"

Grief was angered, but he knew not to lash out with everything he was feeling against his wife, "Blits, he's just a Machine Mutant. My only son is in military academy."

Blits, being truly upset left with an unconvincing calmness about her. "Giru and all other Machine Mutants are living things, sentient like us. Giru, like Stuka and Zerstorer is a part of this family." While Blits walked away slowly, Giru followed her back down into the basement while saying his name. Grief sighed, it was just another day in his crazy life he thought. He found it difficult being home when there was not a war. The issue is with the Tuffles' new 'lightning' strategy wars did not even last that long anymore. He found himself home more often.

He walked to his liquor cabinet and took the cork out of his cognac, he heard his father's voice speak to him. This was a voice he always heard whenever he did something he was not supposed to do. Even if he was not doing something that bad, he would always hear his father criticizing him, "You're always trying to run away from your problems, I thought I raised a man." Hearing that was enough to cause Grief to put the cork back into the bottle and just sit down with his thoughts. He looked through his tablet and saw the usual monotony: someone he barely knew but was 'friends' with uploaded baby pictures with a child messily eating spaghetti, another so called friend posted a picture of an inspirational quote that made her look more learned than she was, then finally he saw the ad, another one paid by the state. He looked at the ad and saw the blonde haired blue-eyed Tuffle with his shirt off holding a non-functionally large wrench around his back looking inspirationally into the sky, the advertisement read, "Scientific consensus proves that a 1,600 calorie vegetarian diet is optimal for a healthy, long, and comfortable life. Proper diet supports the Tuffle race. One Planet, One Race, One Tuffle people." He smiled slightly as it was not another advertisement requesting military service, or encouraging population control. Jobs help everyone he thought, at least he was fighting for something in all those wars.

The fifteen minutes seemed to crawl as he was alone with his thoughts until his daughter approached him with her pajamas on, "Daddy, you said you needed help with the schematic."

Grief quickly regained his composure, "Yes. I know something is wrong with the refrigeration unit with the way the air-conditioning has been running. We're wasting too much electricity."

Stuka looked at her father with a squint before responding, "Isn't Uncle an electrician?"

Her father was quick with a response, "Money doesn't grow on trees, you have to learn how to fix things yourself in your own home."

Stuka surmised that maybe her father wanted to spend time with her, there was also the obvious fact, "You don't have the patience the read the schematic and the self-diagnosis on the computer says it's functioning normally."

"Exactly," He responded plainly, "according to everything and everyone there is never anything wrong, there are never any issues!" He smiled briefly with the slight sarcasm. "I know that's not true, in life and with the refrigeration unit. Most of all I don't want to pay more on the power bill."

While Grief seemed to be playing around with the wires inside the unit and looking at the dust on the computer chips, Stuka was reading the schematic on her tablet, "Daddy, can you tell me why Zero never had to fix things throughout the house? I'd rather be working on my science project."

"Your extra credit science project." He corrected her and reached his hand out, "Hand me the soldering gun."

While Stuka attentively watched her father try to make the repair, she was persistent, "How come Zero doesn't have to fix anything around here?"

Grief was not distracted easily, he was able to do two things at once and it was hard to see his emotions through his protective lenses, "I don't know what is wrong with Zerstorer. All he wants to do is fight, fight, fight. Like a Saiyan. He would have been earmarked for racial cleanliness if it were not for his physical and tactical scores. He may easily become an officer in the Tuffle army, but it takes patience and intelligence to become Field Marshal. I did not put enough pressure on him as a child."

"I don't think that's true," Stuka tried to correct her father, "he used to cry telling me that he's afraid he cannot be the man you tell him to be."

Grief took himself out of the unit's computer-shell and took off his lenses, "My father used to give me licks for crying. I learned quickly that pain, procrastination, weakness, and sadness are all prohibited things. My father did not teach me to love him, I don't even know if he loves me. However, my father taught me to be a man. I will not rest until I become Field Marshal. It's not easy being our kind on Planet Plant; to keep smiling, and never make excuses." He looked at his daughter seriously, who was surprisingly not rebellious about what he said. "Good, let's continue. Where does the power originate on 'C2?'"

King Vegeta woke up in his usual stupor. Not from intoxication but from the constant worry that his entire world could crumble around him at a moment's notice. Not even the Saiyans' non-aggressive agreement with the Tuffles brought him comfort. He knew it was only as valuable as the paper it was printed on. He hurriedly put on his jumpsuit and royal armor, brushing aside two Tuffle girls from his harem. Outside his door, one of his party men, Prefect Wespe who was tall, slender, and remarkably aged, was waiting for him. "If your trysts with Tuffle women are discovered, it will undermine the purposes of the entire Revolution."

Wespe was one of the few the Saiyans trusted by the king, so he allowed him to speak his mind. King Vegeta looked at Wespe's tail, "Pretty bold words for a Tuffle."

"Your highness, I did not decide to be polluted with Tuffle blood, while you exile illegitimate royal children. I fear the decadent Arcosian Planet Trade could expose us for their uses and arm the Fins to fight us before we could ready for war against the Tuffles." Wespe hissed. "We did not fare well the last time we went to war with them."

All King Vegeta could do is laugh at the shot Wespe seemed to take at him, "That didn't stop us from holding the victory parade on Revolution Day, didn't it?"

"That's not important right now sire!"

"So, Frieza plans to meddle again with our affairs? The Revolution is not only meant for Planet Plant, but for our entire sphere of influence!"

Wespe warned King Vegeta, "It would not be wise to invite the wrath of Frieza, even if we have to step back our natural expansion."

King Vegeta was frustrated, "Since when does Frieza tell me what to do!" Then he swallowed hard after he realized his question was rhetorical, "I sometimes find it hard to swallow that those Worldwide Socialist brats the Tuffles are our natural allies."

"The mob mentality in Planet Arcose is sympathetic to the Fins. They have definitely not enjoyed Saiyan expansion in the galaxy. However they do not feel too warm towards the Tuffles" Wespe tried to educate the king. "Harbor no illusions about our so called alliance with the Tuffles. The Revolution and Worldwide Socialism only have one thing in common."

"An Autocratic government," King Vegeta responded as a matter of factly. "The war of annihilation between us is inevitable."

Wespe hissed raspily, "It is us, or it is them. We have to set objectives for our next five year plan. It is crucial to unite the Saiyan race under one banner, and end this tribalism that fractures us."

"We are united by common enemies." King Vegeta smiled.

"If we act quickly, and keep them distracted annexing neighboring planets without alarming the Arcosians, that common enemy won't be you."

General Nappa was one of the few Saiyan officers who survived King Vegeta's purges. When King Vegeta saw scores of Saiyans approaching his power level, instead of taking the war to the Tuffles before all Saiyans were united under a common banner (thus able to be conscripted without violently opposing the king) King Vegeta eliminated all of his powerful threats for 'undermining the Revolution.' While Nappa had more powerful and intelligent contemporaries, he survived due to his unwavering loyalty to King Vegeta and the Revolution. It also helped that he learned to hide his power level in secret. Nappa met with his staff, one of them being Zorn, an athletic black haired Saiyan privileged enough to wear armor, who was a trusted low-level advisor to the king. Nappa desperately tried to warn King Vegeta in the past that Arcosian informants told them war with the Tuffles was imminent. Since reports were contradictory, and the date of the invasion perpetually pushed back, King Vegeta refused to acknowledge his so called allies would ever turn on him.

"There's no talking any logic into him Nappa!" Zorn watched his volume as he barely raised his voice in frustration, "I have had the privilege to speak to King Vegeta about the manner several times and it's like he refuses to believe that our natural enemies aren't out to avenge their defeat twenty-five years ago. He keeps listening to Wespe and the party men rather than listening to any intelligent military decisions."

"I appreciate your input Zorn, I know it's hard to play both sides." Nappa responded appreciatively, who was immensely tall and muscular with a physique of a bodybuilder, responded with his streaming brown hair reaching his back. "As you know if Wespe says it's so, then it's so."

Cebolla, a tall tan female Saiyan with short black hair high in Nappa's ranks asked the rhetorical question, "Our armies are positioned to attack, correct Nappa?"

"They are in order to dissuade the Tuffles." Nappa responded, putting his hands on his armor. ""If we positioned them defensively, it would appear we expect them to break the agreement."

Cebolla continued her rhetoric, "How many years do you feel it will take for us to be prepared for war?"

Nappa sweated, "One or two years optimistically. I don't know one Saiyan who wants war with the Tuffles."

"King Vegeta knows that too." Carrie remarked astutely, "He has to do whatever it takes to placate the Tuffles until we're ready. It's an uneasy peace but it's a peace. Maybe that's why he doesn't want to hear that the Tuffles are preparing for war. He already knows that, but he's trying to delay the inevitable until we're ready."

Nappa nodded in agreement but despite his loyalty for King Vegeta, blind faith was not enough. "If the Tuffles attack within the year, I'm afraid we have little chance to defend ourselves. They made short work of Planet Frank, who helped bring us back to the bargaining table against the Tuffles after our defeat in the great war."

"The Tuffles are busying themselves in Planet Loukaniko and have their armored forces in Planet Frank ready to strike Planet Banger," Zorn confidently stated, "Maybe they can't build their numbers up to attack the Saiyan part of this planet. Possibly war is a year away despite what our spies tell us."

Nappa smiled, "That's true. The Tuffle armies only have defensive screens at our border. Despite King Vegeta not mobilizing us for war, we also have a large force ourselves to contend with."

"24,000 highly trained warriors on the ground," Cebolla yawned on, "another 14,000 highly trained warriors who can fly. There are close to a million Saiyans on the ground under the army's command."

Nappa was not an intellectual person but he was smart enough to state the obvious, "While impressive on paper, I doubt they can contend with the technologically advanced and war hardened Tuffles. We need more time to modernize our training techniques and convince the Arcosians to get involved in this war."

"I don't trust the Arcosians," Zorn raised his voice carefully, "with their decadent ways of life I'm convinced they're as willing to enslave us as the Tuffles, even if by a one-sided trade/labor agreement."

"The difference is we know the Tuffles will enslave us." Nappa remarked angrily, "If you listen to their media, they barely consider us lifeforms. I don't even know if they want us alive anymore. I don't know about you, but I don't feel my children are safe in a world with the Tuffles. Inevitably, the Revolution will spread and the one-race psychopaths will go to the annals of history."

Thank you for reading! Please leave me a review, and please read "Dragonball: Citadel", a completed action-oriented story by clicking on my author page.


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